Month: February 2016

But that group turned out to be a cult with a crazy leader that planned on sacrificing all the members to the “Ant God”. Billy cannot leave, nor does he want to. He has accepted his role in the world. The Ant God is Peace. The Ant God is Love. The Ant God is All. His family is very worried about him. On the plus side, Billy’s outlook seems to have improved.

He believed personalities could be changed with suggestions most minimal.

He hypnotized patients of varying ages

He’d implant ideas with secret phrases,

But he didn’t know how powerful his suggestions were, and several of his patients began ferociously scribbling numerical codes and constantly muttering the same phrase in Aramaic. The numbers were the exact coordinates for the lost temple of Skraal-Kalkhor, and the Aramaic phrase woke up Gruül, an ancient demigod whose thirst for blood & destruction cannot, and will not, be slaked. All hail Gruül, the Death-Bringer.

But he made a gross miscalculation, and instead of journeying to a specific point in time, he tumbled aimlessly through the void. Because of this, no one was able to deactivate the machine. A massive feedback loop caused the power to overload, and the resulting explosion tore a rift in the very fabric of our universe. The only person with the knowledge of how to stop it is Professor Brögarius, and he is trapped in the space between the ticks of a clock. The end is here.

In life, we encounter interesting and incredible people every day, or at least every other day. Every single person we meet adds something new, however large or small, to our lives. Then, there are the extra special, extraordinary, extra incredible people that we meet only on very rare & lucky occasions and end up changing us in huge ways for life Sometimes we know these people for a few weeks, a few months, or a few years. If we’re very, very lucky, though, we’ll know these people for all our lives. We cherish these people because the help us learn, grow, and laugh along the way, and we hold them in our hearts forever.

Don Nixon was one of those extra special, once in a lifetime people.

Don Nixon was my Sunday School Teacher and Music Teacher at Willow Meadows Baptist Church when I was growing up in Houston, Texas. He helped teach me the value and power of faith in one’s life. Not just faith in God, either, but also faith in others and faith in myself. He taught me, and many, many people, about the joys of embracing one’s artistic and creative talents, which has certainly had a tremendous impact on my life. When I decided to move to Chicago to pursue comedic and artistic endeavors, Don Nixon was one of my biggest supporters. There was a time when my self-confidence was waning, and I was starting to feel like I should move back to Texas. He (among other people) really solidified my resolve that moving here was the right thing to do, and reminded me that this is what I’ve wanted to do since I was little. I will always hold a special place in my heart for Don Nixon, as does everybody that ever had the pleasure of knowing him, because I know that, like me, there are legions of people out there whose lives have been bettered by Don Nixon’s presence.

On the afternoon of February 8, Don Nixon passed away after a battle with leukemia. He had a vibrant positive energy that just seemed to permeate from him – a constant bright light that could outshine even the darkest days. So when I learned of his passing, I swear I saw the daylight dim just a little bit.

Until one day, he had a horribly unexpected allergic reaction to an experimental antibiotic medication, resulting in the complete destruction of his speech faculty. Now, breathing is a chore, and even attempting to speak gives Joseph excruciating pain, all of which he internalizes because crying and/or screaming only causes more debilitating pain. He exists now in constant, torturous silence, and he can only consume food prepared as a smoothie-like paste.

And he signed his contract without reading it first, causing him to forgo all rights to his songs, his name, and he receives next to nothing from album sales. He has almost nothing. He wants to walk away but he’s afraid that if he does, he’ll lose what little he has left. He finds no joy in his music anymore, and he has become deeply addicted to heroin as a result.

Puppymonkeybaby was created by scientists in a top secret genetic research laboratory in an undisclosed area of the Sierra Madre Mountains. PMB represented a tremendous leap forward in the science of genetic manipulation. It had the strength and agility of a capuchin monkey, the stamina & intelligence of a purebred pug, and the curiosity & resilience of a newborn baby from Beverly Hills . And it had a stable genetic matrix, something that until now had been but a dream. But now, the dream had come to fruition. Now, human dna could be successfully spliced with the dna of animals. Think of it: the strength, endurance, and power of the animal kingdom – all now at man’s fingertips!

Unfortunately, Puppymonkeybaby was only a stepping stone in this journey – a simple experiment meant to prove a hypothesis. This meant that PMB would likely be put down & dissected. Puppymonkeybaby learned of its intended fate, and managed to break containment & escape. Before he fled, however, he sought vengeance against the humans that forced him into existence. With a teary eye and a heavy heart, he snapped the necks of the scientists that made him what he is.

But he made it out. That’s something, at least.

But what of his life now? He had no family, no home, no memories. We wandered alone, a living, breathing monument to man’s blind ambitious arrogance to overcome & control nature. He had no past and, as he could see, no future. Then, one day as he huddled for warmth underneath the awning of a Nevada bookstore, he was approached by a well dressed man. He was wary of this individual, but he sensed no ill intent in the man, so he did not flee. The man said, “Excuse me, but you are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. You look cold, hungry, and tired. I believe I may be able to help you. I am the head of marketing at Mountain Dew, and you would be the PERFECT spokesperson for our new 3-in-1 energy drink. I can’t promise it will be easy – you’ll work hard & a lot will be expected of you. But I can promise that you will be loved, respected, and want for nothing. Does that sound like something you would like?” PMB shook his head voraciously and took the man by the hand. As the two strolled away, the man asked PMB, “Do you have a name?” PMB promptly responded with a proud, joyous, and monotone “Puppymonkeybaby.”